BOOK ONE: YESTERDAY 95 an "objection." 1 was going to refute it, There's my manu- seript. 1 stated my own attitude quite elearly at the beginning of Part B. He really ought to stop, he ought not to go on shouting so. I had an uneomfortable feeling as soon as he suggested Arminius to me. 1 ought to have stuek to "Humanism." Hein- rich said straight away that he was a swine, that it was pure personal spite. He's talking utter nonsense. My manuseript is on the desk, in my satehel. Anyone who read it would realize that the swine is talking utter nonsense. What was it 1 really said? 1 don't remember exaetly. It was not in the manuseript. Nevertheless, I eould eite it as evidence. l'hen everyone would see what I meant to say. I won't eite my manuseript as evidenee. Arminius was a wild Indian. I can't bear hirn. The "objection" was a fair one. I have said so, that ends it. He had abandoned his uneoneerned attitude. He stood very ereet, his fleshy head held high, his grey eyes looking straight ahead. He let his enerny's words patter over hirn. The fellow at last seemed finished talking rot. Berthold stood there, gnawing his underlip with his big white teeth. Now he should pull out his manuseript and say: "I don't know what you mean, Herr Senior Master. Here is the manuscript." But he did not say it, He remained silent, embittered and im- penitent. He kept his grey eyes fixed unwaveringly upon the other's pale blue ones. Finally, after a pause that seemed to last an eternity he said in a elear but quiet voice: "I am a good German, Herr Senior Master. I am as good a German as you are." This colossal nerve on the part of the young Jew struck Dr. Vogelsang dumb for amoment. Then he feIt an impulse to give his fury rein. But he held all the trumps in his own hand. He did not want to throw them away in a burst of tempere He

THE OPPERMANNS controlled hirnself. "I see," he contented himself with saying, as quietIy as the other. "You are a good German, are you? Weil, will you be so good as to leave it to others to decide who is a good German and who is not? A good German, in- deed." He gave a scornful snort. And then, at last, he carne out of his corner, but not quietly. Every step was loud and firm. He carne straight up to Berthold. Then he faced hirn, eye to eye. Before the tensely silent class, amidst breathless ex- citement, with simulated calm and moderation, he inquired : "Will you, at least, apologize for what you have said, Opper- mann?" Berthold, for the fraction of a second, had also thought of apologizing. He had said something he had not intended say- ing. He had said it in an unconcentrated moment and in a crude and unfortunate manner, Why not admit it? Then the whole matter would be settled, he could finish his lecture and everyone would be bound to see that he was a good German and that the fellow opposite was doing hirn an injustice. But confronted by Vogelsang's stare, by his disgusting, arrogant, slashed face, this impulse vanished before it had become a real thought. The other boys all stared at Berthold. Vogelsang's attitude had impressed them, It seemed as though Oppermann had bitten off more than he could chew, But, naturally, he must not eat humble pie on that account. They waited, curious to see what he would do. He and Vogelsang were standing eye to eye with each other. At last Berthold opened his mouth. "No, sir," he said very qui- etly, even modestly, "I shall not apologize, sir," Everyone was satisfied. Vogelsang, too, was satisfied. Now he had really won. Now, owing to this attitude of Oppermann's, he would have the op- portunity of showing how a German schoolmaster crushed